


In the Garden of Statues

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [245]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Deucalion (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Blind Deucalion (Teen Wolf), Creature Stiles Stilinski, Cursed Stiles Stilinski, Dead Sheriff Stilinski, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Lonely Stiles Stilinski, Mentioned Sheriff Stilinski, mentioned Derek Hale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 14:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20779961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: Walking through the silent and dark corridors of what had once been a beautiful house, a palace, the loneliness of her life felt heavy in her heart. As her eyes landed on the petrified figures of animals and the few men and women who hadn’t come for her, her heart ached with regret. However, she felt now regret about the fate of those who had come to cut her down, those frozen figures she felt deserved the fate of being part of her garden of statues.





	In the Garden of Statues

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, who else is voting to leave David in the trap while the rest of us go and clear this bandit camp, No, listen guys, he’s even worse than Nate who’ll go from sneaking and silent kills to just running in like a lunatic, since Dave here will step on every trap, knock down every barrel of oil and set it alight – have you all forgotten about poor Dan, may he rest in peace? I say, for safety reasons, we leave him here and then when the job is done with rescue him? Like, I don’t mind dying by a sword or an arrow, it’s just going out by burning to death like Dan, it’s really not for me. So, how about it, a vote? 
> 
> In the early days of August, a round of 15Minutes took place, one that should’ve happened long-ago and twice, but the location where it happened had not internet connection and so I was tasked with uploading these once I was home. Since September has arrived it is pretty clear I failed to post these stories, but I’m doing it now as best I can. 
> 
> All you loveliest of readers who are familiar with this series, please skip this part and head straight on down to A Slight Change, since there you’ll learn about this fic. The rest of you, stay a little while and learn what this series is and avoid thus making a terrible mistake. This series is a small payment to my wicked friends, each story is written in 15minutes and so these works aren’t great works of art. If you can’t handle bad grammar, typos and overall badly told stories, then leave now and be at peace; however, if you still feel brave enough to take a chance on my story, then you are welcome to follow my familiar readers down A Slight Change for there you learn a little bit more. 
> 
> A SLIGHT CHANGE has befallen our usual series, and not it’s not that my friends have lost the part to make wishes about their stories, but rather there is now a theme such as the on in this story which is Creature. ItAlmostWorked! wanted another female Stiles one (so, if that isn’t your thing, then leave now and be happy), she wanted Stiles to be able to turn into some mythical creature (yeah, the bitch didn’t even bother to give me a creature, so I picked one of my favourite ones), and a bit of Sad or lonely Stiles, oh and blind Deucalion.

There’s a restlessness in her bones that keeps her from finding sleep, tonight the loneliness she feels everyday sits heavily in her heart, making it hard to breathe or find peaceful sleep. Slowly she rises from her bed, not bothered to dress herself fully, she pulls on the great and heavy cloak that had once belonged to her father, the soft fur-lining would be enough to keep her warm. She casts a brief glance at the gentle fire burning in the firepit, one her father had made decades ago when they moved themselves into this particular part of the once great summer palace.

Silently like a ghost, she leaves the small room and steps into the hallway where many shadows now dwelled while the great and heavy moon cast its light through the long-ago shattered windows. With ease she moves past and between the frozen to stone figures that crowd the long and narrow hallway, most of these men who’d worn fine armour and carried sharp blades came to take her life but when she was but a small child, each of these men no doubt thinking the old teachings of myths and legends would help them take her head, but she was no Medusa even if she too was cursed.

Stepping out into the once great banquet hall, the light of the moon once more serving to give her enough light to see the bleakness of a once impressive hall. The great and grand windows had long ago been shattered, a large piece of the roof had caved in during a winter when snow fall was great and heavy, the damage of the fire the year prior had weakened the structural integrity of the impressive roof. The great tables and fine chairs had been turned into firewood by her father in the early years of their solitude, the only chair untouched was the one the petrified figure of her mother occupied, her arms still in position to cradle a child she’d birthed but days prior, the smile on her frozen face was sweet and full of love.

`Evening, mother. ´ Stiles greets her mother, as she always does, kissing the stone-cold cheek before moving on. If Stiles wasn’t so worried about possibly damaging her mother, she would’ve had the statue moved to where her father now lay buried.

Most of the petrified figures in the great hall had been crushed by the ceiling coming down on them, but a lucky few remained intact such as the thief who stood frozen in the doorway to the side-chamber, a small chest held in his hands, and a bag of tableware on his back, the young man stood now forever frozen with a look of permanent surprise on his face. Stiles cannot help but think the young man with pox scarred face had to have been desperate to take such a risk as try and steal from such a cursed place.

Stiles as per-usual avoids looking at the good natured dog that stood frozen by the doors leading out into the courtyard, the poor creature forever frozen with a look of joy at seeing her back when she was but knee-high, and she too had been so happy to see a doggie, but sadly as soon as her eyes met those friendly brown eyes of the dog the curse struck the hound; sadly it took many more dogs and cats for her to learn never to approach and animal, to never look into their eyes unless she wanted to add to her collection of unfortunate animals.

With a heavy heart, Stiles stepped out into the courtyard, or as she none too fondly called her garden of statues. Although the elements had already brought down many of her statues, there were still plenty of them left for her to gaze upon, those most recent were of a pack of werewolves that had come seeking shelter from the ruins she called home, the hunters that had been chasing them were but broken remains outside the gates of her home.

Moving towards the most handsome man she had ever seen, one who had looked upon her with crimson-eyes and who’s painfully beautiful face had been frozen in a look of surprise, the moment the curse took hold of him the betas shifted and lunged at her, only for them too to fall prey to her curse. The hunters who had been chasing them, had been next, but not before one of them shot an arrow into her shoulder which had made her cry out in pain, causing her blinded by his own hands father come stumbling out into the courtyard; she’d lost her mind, her control when one of the hunters landed his arrow straight in the good heart of her father.

Reaching up to gently rest her hand against the stone-hardened cheek of the alpha, she regrets showing herself to him when he’d demanded her to show herself, but he’d captured her with his beauty and she’d meant to keep her eyes downcast, she’d planned to ask him to leave with his companions but then one of them had said something about her no one had ever said to her before.

`_By the Moon isn’t she beautiful. Such a beauty even Aphrodite herself could not create._ ´ she’d looked up, and as she did her eyes were captured by the beautiful eyes of the handsome man who stood before her, he looked surprised and pleased all at once, and that would be the look his petrified form would forever wear.

With a heavy sigh, Stiles continues her slow walk through her garden of statues, at times picking-up a piece of a statue placing it in the woven basket or at one of the flowerbeds. She’s just finished clearing leaves from the small fountain when the sound of men on horses catches her ear, rolling her eyes at the notion that some group of fools were once more wanted to try and take her head.

Of course, she could allow them to take her head, out her out of her misery, but it felt like a form of betrayal since her father had gone as far as to blind himself to ensure she lived.

She’s about to hide, so she could first tell the fools to leave before taking any drastic action, when a creature unlike any she’d seen before comes barrelling through the gates, faded crimson-eyes telling her this wasn’t just any creature. She watches as the creatures runs in a blind panic about, crashing into her statues and flowerbeds in a chaotic fashion, until finally falling into the small fountain. The sound of heavy boots soon reaches her ears, Stiles hurriedly hides behind one of the great pillars, not knowing what to do.

The heavy huffs of uneasy breaths of the werewolf rings almost as loudly in the courtyard as do the cruel laughter of the seven hunters, and they are hunters for who else would hunt and chase a werewolf until it ran itself to the point of exhaustion.

`Look at the dog. ´ the woman laughs, as she steps closer to where the werewolf struggled to find the strength to rise from the shallow pool of water, `Blind and weak, an easy kill, wouldn’t you say. ´ the men all laugh, a sound as cruel as any man who could chase and kill for fun.

Stiles watches uneasily as the seven figures surround the poor creature that was slowly shifting into the form of but a man, the eyelids and skin around the eyes scarred as if burned, body too thin to survive the winter.

`Pathetic, dog, couldn’t even give us a good hunt. ´ the man on the right of the woman says before spitting at the naked form at his feet, the act does not sit well with Stiles and the way she feels her fangs grow she hisses angrily from her hiding spot.

`I see no dog, only seven abominations that call themselves human. ´

All of them, even the werewolf stills then, each of them turning their heads this way and that while trying to figure out where the voice came from, the light from their torches revealing most of their faces and she can tell they are not yet afraid, but they would be.

`Who’s there? ´ the woman asks, voice full of authority she thought she held.

`If your life matters to you, leave now and never come back. ´ Stiles hisses from her spot, removing her cloak while allowing her transformation to take hold of her.

Stiles really, really hated hunters, and especially those who were but murderous bastards.

The woman laughs then, an unkind and mocking sound to anyone of hearing, `Do you know who I am? ´

`Should I? ´ Stiles asks as she slowly slithers about the shadows, the lower half of her body now that of a long and impressive snake while her upper-torso remained perfectly human aside from her snake-like eyes and venomous fangs.

`I am Kathrine Argent…´

`You speak as if your name ought to mean something to me, but it does not. ´ Stiles says from where she’s now slowly moving her body into position, `Tell me Katherine Argent, do you know where you are? ´

`You will not disrespect me. ´ the woman yells towards the direction where Stiles had been but a moment ago, `I am the daughter of…´

` Oh we’re all the daughters and sons of so and so. ´ Stiles says rather dismissively, slithering up behind one of the fools who had stepped back just enough to step into her shadows, and as she slits the man who reeked of death throat with one of her sharp claws while dragging him into her darkness, Katherine Argent yells into the wrong direction still.

`I am the daughter of King Gerard Argent. ´

`Are you now? ´ Stiles laughs while she slithers into position.

`Yes, so you will show me the respect I deserve or I will drag you…´

´Something… somethings not right…´ the werewolf gasps and coughs from where he still kneels, head turning to where Stiles now moving to snatch her next victim, who had the balls to shoot an arrow into the leg of the werewolf barking at him to shut-up. The pained scream of the werewolf is enough for Stiles to reach out from her shadows and break the neck of said hunter, allowing him to drop dead before his companions.

`What? What? ´ one of the men yells in horror, reaching out with his torch to where Stiles had been but no longer was.

`I will see you hanged. No, burned. ´ the huntress seethes, the threat means absolutely nothing to Stiles.

`You and your men are trespassing on my land. ´ Stiles hisses, right into the ear of Katherine, but her eyes moved from one startled male hunter to the next until all stood there like well-sculptured statues.

When Kate turns around to see her, Stiles grins her most vicious smile, the terrified look on Katherine’s face was priceless.

`The curse of the Stilinski’s? ´ are the last words that Katherine speaks before she turns to stone.

Still smiling, pleased with herself, Stiles slithers back to where her cloak lay.

`Please – please don’t kill me. ´ the werewolf begs from the pool of water after a brief moment of silence, and as she glances over to him while her body becomes less serpentine, she finds herself pitting the poor creature.

`If I’d wanted you dead, you’d be dead. ´ she answers steadily, pulling on the thin fabric of her nightgown, she watches the poor man for a moment and her heart may flutter with hope when she watches him.

`Are you blind, wolf? ´ she asks, the question comes out rather rude and she blames it on being alone for two years.

`Yes, good lady, I am. ´ the poor creature answers, and continues nervously, `The huntress’ father blinded me, years and years ago. ´

` Dishonourable family. ´ Stiles mumbles, making her way over to the werewolf, `Will you try and do me harm, wolf? ´

The werewolf shakes his head, soaked body shivering in the cold night air.

`Deucalion, my good lady, that is my name. Deucalion. ´

`Well, Deucalion, can I trust you not to do me harm? ´ Stiles asks the werewolf, who looks up at her with his unseeing eyes.

`You saved my life. ´ Deucalion says then, voice shaky but earnest, `I would not have my life if it wasn’t for you. ´

`That may well be, but you haven’t answered my question. ´ Stiles says while moving closer to the pool of water, still cautious of the werewolf.

`No, I will not harm you, good lady. I swear it. Upon my life, I swear to you, my lady, I will not harm you. ´ Deucalion answers and although she was still a little bit uneasy about the werewolf, Stiles was also desperate to believe him. Stiles just wanted to spend time with someone who was alive, she’d been alone since the passing of her father, well, aside from people trying to kill her she’d been alone.

`Not much of a life left to swear upon by the looks of you. ´ Stiles says softly, she can’t help but pity the werewolf.

`But there is still some life left in me, ´ Deucalion counters, a thin smile drawn on his bruised face.

`True. ´ Stiles hums while trying to figure out how badly the wolf had been injured, she recalls faintly that in one of the books in what had once been a vast library there had been a chapter on werewolves and their ability to heal, and she recalled that if the werewolf was badly enough injured, poisoned or close to starvation the ability to heal as normal could be greatly impaired.

Placing the cloak on the ground by the fountain, Stiles stepping into the cold water that made her feet and ankles ache almost as greatly as the arrow in the shoulder did, she bites down hard on her lip so not to make any unnecessary noises. 

`My Lady? ´ Deucalion asks, voice shaky and uneasy, sensing no doubt that she was close enough to touch him now.

`I need to remove the arrow, Alpha Deucalion, thankfully it the tip of the arrow is sticking out. ´ she informs the werewolf, there are several dark tendrils spreading and growing beneath the skin of the wound.

`Thankfully? ´ Deucalion croaks, hissing when she touches the arrow.

`Yes, trust me, this will be easier to remove than it would be if it was imbedded in the flesh or worse lodge in the bone. ´ Stiles explains before warning the wolf that the extraction would still hurt.

`You appear very knowledgeable about these things. ´ Deucalion goes on to say, gripping the edge of the fountain tightly, gritting his teeth in anticipation.

`I have years of experience. Now are you ready? ´ the alpha gives her a short nod, and without hesitating she breaks the shaft of the arrow, doing so close as possible to the entry wound before pulling out rest of the arrow out of the poor werewolf, she’s not at all surprised or startled by the roar that escapes Deucalion, she rips a piece of her robe and wraps it around the wound.

`You did good, Deucalion. ´ she tells the man who seemed close to crying but also unconsciousness.

`Come, let’s get you out of the water and somewhere warm and dry. ´ Stiles tells the heavily breathing naked man, and with some assistance from her the blind alpha manages to rise to his feet and make his way out of the cold pool of water.

`Here, this will have to do for now. ´ Stiles says before placing the cloak of her father on the shivering and swaying form of the alpha.

`Thank you. Thank you. ´ the wolf says, voice shaky and she can’t help but feel as though the poor alpha hadn’t expected anyone to show him any kindness or mercy.

The journey to her chamber feels incredibly long, and more than once she’d feared Deucalion would collapse from sheer exhaustion before they reached the small space that she and her father had made into their home. She helps him onto the bed that had belonged to her father, for it sat close to the firepit.

`I need to clean your wounds, once that is done you can have some leftover stew. ´ Stiles tells the werewolf while she gathers all the things she will need, some ointments and bandages, as she settles at the foot of the bed and begins to remove the makeshift bandages, the alpha mumbles sleepily.

`Dear Lady, you know my name and have seen me at my weakest, but I can neither see you or call you by your name. ´

`Stiles. You may call me Stiles. ´ she answers cautiously, and yet a small smile flutters unto her lips as hope blooms in her heart, for perhaps this werewolf would wish to stay with her for a little while.

`My good lady Stiles, I thank you. ´ Deucalion says before he slips into a state of unconsciousness brought on by exhaustion and long suffered stress, leaving Stiles to tend to his wounds in peace.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this wasn’t exactly what ItAlmostWorked! wanted, but if she wanted Steter or Sterek, she should’ve said so. 
> 
> I’d like to think Deucalion would stay with Stiles, at first because he knows she’ll keep him safe and she gives him the freedom to leave whenever he wished. He’d leave and make his way into towns and villages, often to sell the things Stiles is fine with him selling, and then buying things he knows they need. He buys things to fix their ruined home, material to build planters so they can grow things like tomatoes and what nots which makes Stiles so happy to see she can do more than just destroy things. Maybe, one day Deucalion finds a man ready to drown a blind puppy and brings it home, and Stiles freaks out because she doesn’t want to hurt the animal, and it takes Deucalion to coax her out of hiding and swearing over and over again that she’s not going to hurt the dog for her to come out of hiding; god, she’d cry tears of joy as she holds the little ball of fur against her chest, and she’s never felt this happy before. 
> 
> Sure, at times some fool would come to their home and disrupt their peace, but Stiles and Deucalion deals with these problems easily enough.   
Eventually Deucalion decides to be brave, he has two rings made of pure-gold and then asks her to be his wife, and she agrees eagerly and under the full-moon they promise their lives and loves to one another. 
> 
> I think she’d be very anxious and scared about having children, afraid she’d turn them to stone, and Deucalion understands these fears and knows the risks, and so between not having children or having to blind them if they weren’t born as their mother, he decides not having children is for the best; and frankly the idea of their son or daughter turning out as their mother and then doomed to a life of loneliness, it too doesn’t sit well with either one of them and so the decision is made to not have children. 
> 
> However, one night Deucalion is in the woods, hunting, when she hears a weak sort of cry and at first he thinks he’s near a camp where a young couple with a small child are set-up for the autumn night, but then he realizes there is only one heartbeat that begins to grow slower as the cries become weaker, and so he runs towards the sound, dropping the rabbits he’d caught and allowing the large deer he’s been tracking escape for now. He finds the abandoned child easily enough, and at first, he doesn’t know what to do, but the chill of the night eventually has him picking-up the baby and heading into the nearest village and there he finds out that the baby is blind and thus an unnecessary burden on its parents and the village. Knowing now the reason why the child was left to die, Deucalion takes the baby home, and again Stiles freaks the hell out until Deucalion tells her the child can’t see, that it’s safe for her to look at the child, to hold it. After this night, Deucalion begins to keep an ear out for whispers of children born blind, and then offer to take the child from parents who might be planning to leave the child to die in the woods, and so their family grows.


End file.
